HPDrabbles
by J. Merritt
Summary: Collection of drabbles written for my LJ community, hpficcontest
1. Boaderline

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Voldemort

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**Borderline**

You hate them, admit it. There's nothing wrong with it. Hating is, after all, the opposite of love. It's as natural as breathing. Why should you care? What have they ever done for you? Did they not hate you first? Did you forget the way they mocked you, kicked and beat you, their fists bruising your skin, their words ripping your soul?

You were left alone, abandoned and unwanted. Ah yes, you do remember that. Even i he /i didn't want you, you saw it in his eyes, the way he looked down his long nose at you, the same way she did. You were never good enough for them, were you? You are just a failure, a nobody, and when you die, you'll be forgotten, just another ugly corpse. Unless…

Ah, that's right. Raise your wand dear boy, yes yes, you know the words. It's so easy isn't it? Ah, delicious. Look, look, you'll never be like, another ugly corpse. That's right, let it fill you. You can feel it, can't you boy? Oh don't be afraid, it's alright. As I said, it's as natural as breathing. You'll be great boy, powerful. No one will dare to hurt you again, no boy, you'll be respected, adored, loved.

Ah yes, boy, we'll be great, you and I, I and you. Such great fun we'll have. We'll make them pay, all of them, for everything. We're great you know, the greatest wizard that ever lived. We'll need a great name though, one they'll remember, fear, quiver at the very sound of. Ah yes, that'll do, Lord Voldemort.


	2. Serendipty Suspended

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Argus Filch  


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**Serendipity Suspended**

He'd never been lucky. No, the finicky bitch that is Lady Luck had laughed in his face, spitting for good measure as a squib blessed the long lone of wizards he'd descended.

She'd kicked him around, gifting him with a life of inadequacies and disappointments. Failure became his shadow, following him through desperate attempts to quell the storms of his childhood; storms that raged into hurricanes as any trace of magical ability failed to produce itself.

Shamed and alone he found solitude a blessed release. Hidden behind the thick stone walls of Hogwarts, blanketed in comforting darkness, he was forgotten.

To Argus Filch that was real luck.


	3. Snape's Hell

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling__  


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**Snape's Hell**

He'd expected more. Angels, perhaps music, certainly white light and fluffy clouds. But never…this. Dumbly he stared at the round table where Albus waved to him enthusiastically, motioning for him to join them.

Them, being the other figure, one he knew all too well. Black haired bobbed unnaturally as the other man faced him, Sirius Black. This couldn't be heaven, no, this was most certainly hell.

"Snivilius!"

He cringed at the hated nickname as Albus unceremoniously summoned a chair, promptly depositing him at the table.

"Come, come Severus. We're all friends here!"

Regaining his composure he looked at the oddly pink table, heart shaped biscuits and steaming tea. "Albus, what is this?"

The old wizard eyed him oddly, crumbs caught in his white beard.

"Tea and biscuits," he stated obviously as Sirius sipped his own tea.

"I can see that, but what is this!" He waved his arms wildly at the swirling mists around them.

"Ah…." Albus breathed knowingly, brushing the crumbs from his beard. "This, is heaven."

"Heaven! Heaven is tea and biscuits!"  
"I think so."

He gapped as Sirius set his tea down.

"Duck."

He'd have glared at him had he the time. Instead he found himself suspended in midair, an unseen rope around his ankle. Familiar snickers erupted behind him. "Hello Potter."

"Prongs!"

"Padfoot!"

The two hugged as he spun slowly in the air, Albus engrossed in the box of Berty Box Every Flavor Beans that had suddenly appeared before him.

"Ah…heaven indeed! These really are quite good."

"Marvelous," he sneered feeling nauseous.

"James! Put him down this once!"

He flinched, feeling the magic suspending him give way, falling to the ground in a mess of robes and limbs. He listened to their bicker for a moment, trying to recall something vicious enough to…

"Severus!" Roughly cold hands pulled him upright. "Don't go lying around on the floor! You've got a reputation to uphold!"

"Da…Dark Lord?"

Voldemort smiled a snake-like smile, stealing his seat and tea.

"Tom! So good of you to join us," Albus declared happily, shaking his hand.

"You…you invited the Dark Lord!"

"Now Severus," Albus warned, "What's in the past, is in the past. We're all friend here."

Severus wanted to vomit at the smile gracing his face. Instead he seated himself as indicated and gulped down the cold tea, desperately trying to ignore James's arm around his neck and Lily's peel of laughter at his pained expression.


	4. OTP

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Snape/Cauldron/Hermione  


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_**OTP**_  
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We're alone, the darkness of night pressing against us, drawing us together. Your body is cool, sleek beneath my trembling fingers. I've waited all day for this. Desire wraps its tantalizing touch around me, urging me to finish quickly, but I must be gentle, this is your first time. Despite my own needs I must go slowly; you too have needs.

Frustration builds within me, though I'll never let it show, How I long to finish! But no, slow, slow…. This time is ours. Here together in this dank, dark dungeon I am naked before you; each flaw, each weakness exposed before you. Through my ugliness, my childish tantrums you remain beside me.

I love you for that.

You're warmer now, having finally begun to respond to my loving administrations. Sweat trickles down my brow, my hands continuing their swift circular motions. You don't respond, not with words, but I can tell you are close. You cannot hide from me, I can see it, smell it, almost taste it.

Not much longer!

Elation surges through me as your juices bubble over, flowing to a mess on the stone floor, the liquid taking on the soft mother-of-pearl sheen that signifies your completion. Exhausted I collapse against you, my feverish skin pressed against your cooling surface. Lazily the potion bubbles within your sleek walls, proof of our midnight joining.

Carefully I wrap my shaking arms around your metal body needing to feel connected in this moment, but you don't hold me back. You can't; your sculpted arms weren't made for it.

I hate your for that.

I hate even more that I must always finish alone. Gentle wisps of damp dungeons, new parchment, and Her reach my nose. Smiling I slip a hand beneath my robes, a twisted smile gracing my lips.

Soon I will know the true feeling of Her touch, the taste of Her lips, the pressure of Her hips against mine and I, Severus Snape, will never have to finish alone again.

All it takes is just one sip.


	5. Snape's Hell 2

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling__  


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**Snape's Hell: Episode 2**

Snickering against his hand he snuck from the dark room where the other laying sleeping, blissfully unaware of the dangerous man just outside his door. His wicked smile grew upon seeing his comrades gathered outside their victim's home. He nodded briefly at the hooded figures, the single that everything was on plan.

Pulling out his wand he pointed it at the sky, fumbling over laughter as he cast the enchantment. Within moments the deadly serpent marked the sky, each of his servants' marks responding in accord.

The loud crash and resounding curse alerted him that the victim was indeed aware of his presence. The terrified scream made his grin widen, the sickening thump of a body hitting a floor caused him to giggle; but it wasn't until Severus Snape appeared in the doorway, tar and feathered, that he lost it, tumbling to the ground in a fit of laughter.

Snape sent his master a crude look, irritably plucking a rather large feather from his forehead. At least death, he mused, had improved his master's humor.


	6. Harry's Hell

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Harry & Snape  


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**Harry's Hell**

Silence buzzed loudly in his ears, each heavy footstep bringing **him** closer. What **he** was doing here Harry had no idea, but he was quite certain **something** wasn't right. This wasn't the dark dungeons he'd happily left behind last year; there were no bubbling caldrons, no stench of burnt potions, so why was **he** here!

Blinking owlishly, much like Hedwig Hermione would later tell him, Harry stared at their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, so oddly out of place in the sunlit room. Wearing a wicked smile, one Harry was certain could chill even Lord Voldemort, Professor Severus Snape leveled his eyes with his least favorite student.

"Welcome back, Potter. I'm sure we'll have another…fun semester."


	7. Desolation

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Snape/Lily

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**Desolation**

The first snowflake.

He watched with disdain as it fell gracefully in the cold winter wind to rest upon his windowsill knowing that it would mean colder, shorter days in which the children would be trapped within the castle walls and no means to dispel of their energy without causing havoc. He frowned sternly, mentally noting to provide the delightful brats with hours of homework to occupy their busy hands.

The wind continued to howl, agitating his already frayed nerves as the sky burst open drowning the world in a vast blanket of snow. Under normal circumstances he'd never have stopped to look at the icy menace that would plague his world for the coming months; not without that simple pressed paper.

He stared at it with stunned trepidation. Shaking hands reached slowly for the paper snowflake recalling the feel of her hands on his, her voice whispering in his ear, her warm laughter and sparkling green eyes. Wide eyed he looked outside at the snow covered grounds hearing her ghost laughter, feeling her phantom arms tugging at his.

In a stupor he wandered the halls of Hogwarts, ignoring the blissful chatter of the students, the occasional hushed whisper as he passed. Like a dreamer he stumbled on towards the only sunlight he saw, gasping as the chilly air brushed his skin.

She was there as he remembered her. Bright green eyes merrily seeing a world he could not, she danced through the flakes her arms raised in celebration. Giggling she spun around, her hands outstretched waiting for his. The beautiful smile that had melted his heart gracing her lips, she waited.

It wasn't real. Even as his mind insisted his heart forced his feet forward; stumbling steps as he shuffled through the snow towards the ghostly memory of the girl he'd loved. Unshed tears stung his eyes as she turned away, her own tears frozen on her face.

He lunged, arms closing around a nearly forgotten memory as he collapsed in the snow. Breathing deeply he unclenched his fists. Within lay the pressed paper and nothing else. His mind chided him for expecting anything more, while his heart ached that there wasn't.

Kneeling in the snow he recalled another snowy day, long ago, when she'd stood before him. Arms outstretched for his, she'd spoken the words he could not.

_I love you._

The words had hung between them, an icy wall he could not overcome. She was, after all, a mudblood and he…. He'd walked away. He'd beckoned winter into his heart and frozen her sunshine. He'd left her to stand there alone, crying, forgotten in the winter storm.

A single snowflake landed on the pressed paper in his palm. His eyes widening as the carefully scripted writing appeared. A lump caught in his throat, his voice cracking as he read the message left so long ago by a young girl's broken heart. Even through his cruel rejection, even through her pain, she still reached for him.

Cradling the old parchment to his chest he whispered the words he'd wanted to say for nearly two decades. "I love you too….Lily." And for the first time in his life Severus Snape cried.


	8. Hagrid's Question

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Hagrid

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**Hagrid's Question**

_If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?_

Hagrid pondered this, chewing carefully on a strip of meat. His pa had always told him to chew carefully so he wouldn't choke.

Smart man that.

Hagrid pondered it as he waved goodbye to the troublesome trio and headed back to his cabin for a pot of tea. Dumbledore said tea cleansed the soul, so he always made sure to drink plenty.

That and it tasted good.

Hagrid pondered it as he lifted the firewood he'd need for that nights' fire; to keep his abnormally large feet warm. Normally he had abnormally large socks for that but Fang had decided to put abnormally large holes in them this morning. The point was he didn't want cold feet. Cold feet made cold men, or something. He hadn't really paid that much attention to Filch.

Strange man that one.

So Hagrid pondered the question he'd pondered all as day he carried the load of firewood back to his cabin, the corner of his eye watching the forest carefully to see if a tree would fall without him hearing it. Hagrid thought that'd be a neat trick for one to manage that considering how much time he spent there. He'd spent more time in the Forbidden Forest than anyone; had been sneaking in there since he'd been small - well young might be a better term for him - back even before it hadn't been forbidden to him – did that make it the Un-Forbidden Forest? – but the point was he spent more time in there than anyone and he'd know if a tree didn't make any noise when it fell and they always did which meant, of course, that trees most certainly did make noise when they fell.

Satisfied he threw a few logs into the fire, already thinking about which tea would be best, when the thought occurred to him that he was never in the forest when he slept, which meant he wasn't around to know if they made noise in the night or not. Pondering this new thought he rose, selecting a herbal tea that Snape had insisted could help his mental situation – such a nice man that Snape – and sipped it quietly, watching the Un-Forbidden Forest for any silently falling trees.

Thoroughly disgusted for wasting time with such ludicrous thoughts, Hagrid stormed through his house, Fang watching him wearily as he threw a few bags of tea, dried meat and holey socks into a bag. Looking completely satisfied he proudly turned to the dog, addressing him as if he were the Pope.

"Well Fang, I'm off!"

Fang whined once before plopping down on the old porch, watching as his friend crashed through the dark forest, and lamenting over the problem that his said friend had forgotten to feed him.

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"He what!" Hermione all but shrieked, ripping the parchment from Harry's hands. In the background Ron eyed the gorging Fang nervously as Hermione began to read out loud.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione. Went to forest to hear if trees fall at night. Be back soon. Hagrid."


	9. Puppet Master

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Voldemort

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**Puppet Master**

He loved to watch them dance; their arms flailing about like ribbons as they twisted and turned to the music he made. Faces perfectly schooled they spun faster and faster to the rhythm; legs jerking beneath their weight, toes struggling to balance their writhing bodies in a flurry of motion that left him breathless.

Exhausted and broken they'd collapse at his feet; whimpering and begging for him to end the dance even while their bodies twitched to the musical laughter of his audience.

Disappointed, he always was, to see the performance end so soon, he was gracious and always rewarded them. The green light erupted from the end of his wand, the dancers jerking violently before forever lying still.

Frowning Lord Voldemort walked away mourning the loss of his favorite ballet, already contemplating the next performance.

So beautiful was their pain.


	10. Beginnings

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Voldemort

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**Beginnings**

Family had been something he'd never known. The tender touch of a mother's hand was as foreign to him as his old world was to them. Ignoring the hateful word on their tongues, refusing to meet the burning glares they cast his way, he slowly made his way to the end of the table and sat….alone.

He was as unwanted here as he had been there.

Despite the old wizard's reassurances, his new _family_ did not change their view. They were a proud race, the pure-bloods, and a muggle born had no rank among them. He was an outcast…again.

He ignored them. Wearing the perfect mask of indifference he'd created before he could remember, he studied, he learned. He watched. He suffered.

_Mudblood._

Gritting his teeth he watched them walk away, the foul potion still leaking into his eyes, their laughter ringing in his ears. Like the useless _family_ he'd left behind, these were no different.

He plotted.

They withered before him, the proud, perfect purebloods. They knelt before him, or they died. Looking around at the hooded figures, their eyes watching him intently, fearfully, he realized he had finally found his true family.

He smiled.


	11. Horcrux

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling_  
_Character: Voldemort_

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_**Horcrux**_  
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_He hated ghosts…_

From his earliest days at Hogwarts they'd provided nothing but annoyances; popping in and out of walls, startling him into spilling his potions and interfering with his carefully practiced spells.

_They reminded him..._

He'd frown; complain to his housemates of their distasteful presence, their whimsical nonsense, desperately trying to ignore the terror they unknowingly invoked.

_Everything, everyone…_

Alone in the midnight hours, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, he poured over the ancient books and scrolls, searching, while their pale faces watched him intently.

_Must someday die._

He smiled a snake-like smile, hungrily ripping the pages from the ancient text, oblivious to the envious, mournful gazes that watched him leave.

Except him.


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